


And the Turtle Doves Danced

by Yamiga



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Fiction, Historical, M/M, Post Concentration Camp, Romance, Slash, WW II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamiga/pseuds/Yamiga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Major Bartholomaus Abrahams rescued Dr. Antoine Bardon, a concentration camp prisoner, from death at Auschwitz, Antoine figured it was a cruel trap. He knew of the cruel nature of the Nazi soldier, and despite Bartholomaus' good deeds, he was no exception.  When Bartholomaus returned him to England, Antoine still lacked trust in him. He figured the moment he opened up to him, he'd march him straight back to the camps or murder him himself. When Bartolomaus confessed his love for him, Antoine learned to hate him. A Nazi soldier was a demon, a spawn from hell. It was an insult to Antoine, that Bartholomaus dared to feel that way about him. But when Bartholomaus left to return to his position in Poland, it took everything for Antoine to let him go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Turtle Doves Danced

The next morning, Antoine woke up to the sound of rustling coming from the basement. Not the sound of the leak, which he’d heard a few nights before, but something louder. He assumed that Bartholomaus was down there, cleaning up or sorting things out, that man had a thing for order. Antoine, upon waking, also realized that his headache had completely vanished and though his stomach still reeked with nausea the pain in his head had subsided. Not wishing to vomit, he found himself laying idly, looking up at the wooden ceiling, though his vision was blurred. He reached for his glasses that rested on the nightstand next to the bed and put them on. His vision broadened and he began to count the cracks in the wood to keep himself entertained until his stomach settled. He supposed he’d have to cook breakfast, so he needed to feel better sooner than later.

Antoine beckoned himself to sit up, slowly, as he looked around the room. It had looked the same way it did every morning when he woke up. The bed, the desk, and the door, those were three things he always saw first. The window was behind him, and he didn’t always feel like turning around to get an outside view. He found it easier focusing on the things that stood in front of him every morning, untouched and the same and for about two weeks, those were the objects that had imprinted themselves in his mind. He’d looked forward to seeing them every morning.

However, something about the door was different, it set him off, and something was missing. Usually, hanging on the ledge of the wooden exit, was Bartholomaus uniform, containing the swastika and the eagle. Today, it was gone. Antoine stared in curiosity, feeling a strange movement within his stomach. Seeing that uniform every morning served him a rush of emotions. Sometimes, he’d be fearful and get flashbacks of the concentration camps. It would take him a while to remember that he was in England and not Germany. Other times, it would serve as a relieving calm to him knowing that Bartholomaus was there, protecting him, and even though the two weren’t exactly speaking to each other, Antoine enjoyed his company.

That morning though, seeing the absence of that uniform, caused chills to go down Antoine’s spine. His stomach began to lurch at the thought that Bartholomaus may have been absent, at the thought that he was gone. However, wasn’t the noise downstairs in fact, Bartholomaus? If so, why was his uniform missing, could he have possibly been wearing it? That would be a dumb decision, even if the two were isolated on the English country side. There was always a chance that a patrol officer would see him wearing it.

Antoine got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. He ignored the sensation in his stomach and washed his face and brushed his teeth. He looked at himself in the mirror noting that he had gotten just a bit paler but his cheeks had reddened, and they’d become fuller. Seconds after, he darted down to the basement where the noise was still ever present. He saw boxes upon boxes and a brief case leaning against the wall. Fully dressed for the day knelt Bartholomaus, and much to Antoine’s surprise, he was throwing clothes into his briefcase. From where he stood, Antoine saw the uniform at the bottom of the case.

“Good morning doctor.” Bartholomaus called as he looked over his shoulder. His aggressive accent like always sent chills down Antoine’s spine. “I hope that you slept well.” He went back to packing without waiting for a response. It had been two weeks since they’d had a full conversation and that was Bartholomaus’ fault. After his rather abrupt love confession, Antoine couldn’t see him the same way. But now, as he watched him, standing up straight and dusting off his clothes, he began to feel his heart pump faster and faster.

“You’re packing.” Antoine stated, walking further into the basement.

“I am.” Bartholomaus replied turning to face Antoine. “Is that a problem, doctor?” He pulled on his own red tied, straightening it with the same trouble he had every morning.

“Where are you going?” Antoine had walked over all of the boxes and had found himself looking up at the tall German man.

“Poland.” There was an amount of empathy in Bartholomaus’ voice. “I promised to return you home. Now I must go_”

“Back to Poland?” Antoine asked with a great amount of surprise.

“I was stationed there, if you remember.” Bartholomaus replied with a frown on his face.

“Yes, I remember.” Antoine held up his arm, revealing the serial number given to him upon entering the concentration camp.

“Then you must understand, I have a job. I cannot so easily abandon my job. I apologize if you have ill feelings about it and I understand_”

“That’s not my concern.” Antoine couldn’t believe those words had come out of his lips, and for seconds he looked surprised. He felt as if he had betrayed everything he held dear, but at that moment, nothing else mattered. “If the other German’s figure out that you helped me then they’ll kill you.”

Bartholomaus chuckled. “That will not happen_”

“And how do you know? You’re just one man…and what of the Soviets_”

“Russia will not pass the border.” There was a hint of pride in his voice. “I will be safe, and so will you. You know how to get to town, and where to buy food. The basement will protect you from the raids, though I hardly believe any will hit here in the country.” He smiled. “I must leave now, my superiors will get suspicious of my absence.” He turned around and picked up his briefcase. “Good luck doctor. It was nice becoming acquainted with you.”

Antoine stood there silently as Bartholomaus left the basement, he heard the man’s heavy footsteps nearing the exit. He remembered days ago the bitterness he felt towards the man after his confession. Bartholomaus had told Antoine that he had fallen in love with him, and at the time Antoine still didn’t trust him, and how could he. Bartholomaus was a Nazi, a demon. He had killed so many, and would kill so many more as the war progressed. He harbored and spread nothing but hatred, just like any other Nazi. So how, could Antoine love him, how could he return such feelings?

At that time, Antoine was also unaware of the magnitude of Bartholomaus’ sacrifice. He was unaware that the man risked not only his job, but his life to protect Antoine and in that aspect, Antoine believed himself selfish. Bartholomaus was able to put his hatred aside to love Antoine, so why was it so difficult for Antoine to do the same?

Antoine rubbed a hand through his now shaggy hair and shook his head. He turned quickly on his heel and ran to the living room. Bartholomaus, who was a few feet away from the door, didn’t expect to be tackled at such a force, yet he stood his ground. Antoine had him in an awkward embrace from behind and released him when he stopped struggling.

“Doctor?” Bartholomaus turned around to face him and had dropped his briefcase. “Is there something troubling you_”

“I love you!” Antoine yelped. “I love you! I know my actions a few nights ago said otherwise, but I was confused then! You…we…you were a Nazi Major and I couldn’t get over that fact…but you’ve done so much for me…and…” He took a deep breath. “I love you, and I want you to stay, I need you to stay.”

“Doctor_”

“No. My name is Antoine, so call me Antoine.” He snapped angrily.

“Forgive me Antoine.” Bartholomaus breathed and smiled. “Please, do not think ill of me…” He paused, as if not sure what to say, and for minutes his mouth opened and closed yet no words came out. “I am a soldier…” He finally spoke. “And I have my pride to uphold_”

“So you would pick your _pride_ over me?”

“Antoine, I didn’t say that!” Bartholomaus grunted. “I have picked _you_ over my pride_”

“Leave the army then! It’s simple, you’re making this harder than_”

“Antoine_”

“You don’t have to go back! They’ll never find you I promise_”

“Antoine!” Bartholomaus used his authority, as his voice rang through the whole house. His fists were clenched and his eyes were sealed shut. Antoine watched in silence as the older man’s muscular chest heaved up and down with every breath he took. “I _will_ come back, you will have to wait.” He opened his kind ocean blue eyes and gazed down at Antoine. “I promised I would bring you home to England, did I not?”

“…I’ve lost so much to this war...and now I may lose the only person I care about. I have no family Bartholomaus…they were killed, and you know that better than anyone. You’re people shot them, burned them…” Antoine clenched his fist. “I’m putting my hatred behind to love you, so put your pride behind to stay with me. We can forget about the war…we can forget about _everything…”_

“That is impossible.” Bartholomaus leaned over and breathed in Antoine’s ear. “Just wait for me, and your worries will vanish”

He took a few steps away from Anotine and knelt down by his suitcase. Opening it, he withdrew his whermacht hat. It was dark, rimmed with the fine material, and had the metal pendant attached at the center and the eagle sewn on at the top. He approached the confused Antoine once again and placed the hat in his hands. Antoine gasped, looking down at the object. Never had he held something like it before, and it almost scared him to do so.

“Keep it.” Bartholomaus smiled. “I will get it when I return.” He bent back over to pick up his briefcase, after that, he made way to the door. “Good bye my love.” He turned back to stare at Antoine who stood in momentary shock.

“Stay…” He clutched the hat in his hands. “Stay…I’ll do anything…I have nothing, if you leave I will have nothing! Can’t you see that? I know you must always be strong but I love you_”

Bartholomaus was fast enough to silence the distraught doctor, and not with his hand or harsh words, but with his lips. He brushed his own lips against Antoine’s until the doctor fell completely silent. “Promise me,” He whispered. “That whatever happens, you will not open this door until tomorrow morning. You will not leave this house in search of me.”

“I promise.” And with that, the kiss was broken. Bartholomaus stood straight. He looked into the troubled eyes of his lover before turning around to face the door. Mechanically he moved until his hand rested on the doorknob. Seconds later, he opened the door and without another word, he was gone.

Antoine fell to his knees with the hat still clutched in his hands. A relic of the people he hated, now turned to a relic of love, was all he had to stay sane. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from crying, he couldn’t stop that urge of nausea from returning and causing him to vomit right there on the living room floor.

 _God help me…_ He thought clutching the hat ever so tightly. _Please strengthen me…_ He prayed harder and harder yet, he felt like not a person, God, nor deity listened.


End file.
